


The Needle Always Wins

by fallen_for_another_psychopath



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Modern AU, Needles, crude fluff, doctor!clarke, mechanicalengineer!Raven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 12:37:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2468459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallen_for_another_psychopath/pseuds/fallen_for_another_psychopath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raven Reyes is afraid of NOTHING! She jumps out of planes, goes scuba diving, drag racing, can talk to anyone, do anything, go anywhere… just get that fucking giant ass needle out of her face!<br/>And she isn’t afraid of anything at all ever so she doesn’t tell anyone until the pretty blonde doctor whips out this 6ft long giant ass needle (“quit exaggerating Reyes it wasn’t that long” is Clarke’s long suffering response when Raven tells people how they met).</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Needle Always Wins

**Author's Note:**

> *Summary by manycoloureddays because I suck at them and that is too cute to waste.

  
Clarke figured her GP orientation would be dull as fuck. She was required to do a rotation for her foundation year; it mainly involved being stuck in one room seeing the same old hypochondriacs, pushy parents terrified that their precious gems had pneumonia when really it was a simple virus she couldn't prescribe any meds for, blatant alcoholics lying to her face about not drinking when she could clearly see how their faces and chests shone red or if she was really lucky, someone would come in with something juicy but then she would have to refer them to specialists in the end anyway.

So it was fair to say that she was more than a little relieved at having to attend a local company to give shots to employees via their work insurance schemes as well as educate about the importance of vaccinations - a popular article from one of those shitty extreme left-wing papers had everyone in a scare again. _Journalism really was dead._ At least she could see different people for once even if she probably wouldn't talk to them, being an introvert and all, but you know, there was always the possibility.

Her first patient was a pretty dark haired girl with a red bomber jacket and military boots; these scientists really gave no fucks to dress codes in the work place, it was admirable. And as the girl quipped 'Hey Doc!' whilst in a kerfuffle getting past the curtain into the dingy little make-shift set up, Clarke knew that she would like her.

When Red turned to face Clarke properly, she paused and let out a 'wow.'

Clarke felt herself blush, and Raven recovered herself, smiling, not even the slightest bit embarrassed.

"Sorry, just wasn't expecting you to be so... young."

She relaxed, "Oh," why did her voice pitch have to fail her now? "Well, I just graduated last year and I'm doing a GP rotation."

"Cool. Well, I'm Raven."  "Nice to meet you Raven, I'm Dr Clarke Griffin. Here, have a seat on the bed and we can get started."

"Sure thing." She hopped onto the bed, giving Clarke a flash of the tattooed F at the back of her neck.

"So," Clarke started, "you're the oldest patient I've ever given a shot to."

Raven raised her eyebrows.

"I just came out of my paediatric placement. Before that I spent my summer volunteering with UNICEF to vaccinate kids in Kenya."

"Nice. Huh, you know, my mum was kind of AWOL most of the time, and we didn't even have insurance. If it wasn't for my neighbour at the time, I would never had heard of the VFC Programme at all. She saved my life."

"Oh. I'm sorry if-"

"Don't sweat it, Doc."

Clarke prepared the needle; judging by how much Raven's eyes widened, it was a lot bigger than she was expecting, like a whole lot. Her jaw clicked.

"Erm... Dr Griffin. Maybe now would be a good time to say that I can't stand needles."

Clarke cocked an eyebrow, unsure if she was joking or not, sometimes she missed those. "Huh, you didn't strike me as the type of person to be. You know, considering your tattoo."

"You noticed my tattoo?" Raven shook her head. "Listen, when I got it done I was drunk and my ex-girlfriend was there... And I was faced backwards as well, that helped."

"Okay, well, people being afraid of needles I have seen plenty of times before. We're going to have to distract you."

"Not afraid...just can't stand them." Raven mumbled.

"Of course," Clarke soothed. "Close your eyes and think of your favourite place."

Raven truly looked bemused, her heart sank.

"I don't really have one."

Clarke tried to hide her surprise."Not even the beach or your home or whatever?"

"Not really a rich selection to choose from. Could choose my lab but I prefer to actually do stuff rather than daydream about it."

"Okay... Name a band you like." Clarke suggested.

"Erm. Bikini Kill?" Clarke couldn't hide her smile, something she never usually had problems with but really, angry feminist music of the rock persuasion. Go figure.

"Great. Give me a second, I'll put it on," Clarke fumbled for her iPhone. When it started blaring out, she said, "Is this not the perfect going-to-war music, riling you up to fight ISIS, misogynists and needles?"

Raven smiled reluctantly in response.

"Okay, now this is what I tell my kids-",

Raven cut her off, "You know, you don't have to keep mentioning the little brats. It's really not the most comforting thing to keep hearing."

Clarke looked down, embarrassed. She had had her fair share of awkward patient interaction in the past, always her weakest area, with her tendency to be too blunt and sparse for words, yet her professors always emphasised small talk. And it was _draining_. She suspected Raven felt the same way.

"Sorry. Just close your eyes and sing along, or hum, whatever you're comfortable with."

Raven started singing, lacking any sense of pitch which was endearing in its own special way. As Clarke waited for her to settle in, she was struck by the girl's eyebrow game. And her cheekbones and the way her-. Shaking herself out of it she swung her arm up, at which point Raven opened her eyes and yelled, "Stop!"

Clarke froze. "What happened? You couldn't even see me."

"I felt the air when you swung. What was that, were you getting ready to throw a javelin or something?"

Clarke shook her head, exasperated but amused. Her amusement increasing at Raven's twitching about on the bed.

"Aaah." She exclaimed. "Can I get up for a sec?"

"Of course." Clarke replied and watched as Raven proceeded to wiggle about and shake her arms and legs.

"Ok. Ok. I can do this," she chanted.

"Yes, you can."

Raven sat down again. "So, what are we going to try this time, doc?"

Clarke kissed her.

Clarke didn't plan on kissing her, it breached the doctor/patient relationship clause severely but she could see that every child's trick would be fruitless, and hey, Raven mentioned an ex-girlfriend so she was taking a wild stab here... but what scared Clarke was that she wanted to kiss this _lively, weird, abrupt, mysterious_ girl and the distraction was just a bonus.

Raven responded though, and Clarke was in danger of being distracted herself, especially when Raven's hands rearranged themselves. _What the fuck, girl._ She took the opportunity and plunged the needle into her arm.

"Fuck." Clarke exclaimed, jumping back, Raven had bit her tongue.

"Sorry. Tit for tat." The culprit smiled cockily, "that... was amazing."

"I know, I came up with the idea on the spot, I'm really sorry. But look on the bright side, it worked?"

"Sure yeah, the idea was amazing too." And if Clarke didn't know better she'd say Raven was looking at her with a new-found admiration.

She would soon come to learn what Raven was thinking:  
  
 _Looks like the uptight, gutsy, pensive, mysterious doctor was capable of spontaneity after all. Maybe they could have some fun here._

 

* * *

 

**Epilogue**

 

One early morning when Clarke gets called in for a Sunday shift, Raven stirs as she's about to get up, and something compels her to ask:

_You never did tell me why you're afraid of needles._

She's sure it's the deliriousness and lack of sleep that makes Raven admit it; she rarely talks about her past but she lets it slip, almost dispassionately:

_My mum was a user. Of the hard shit. And one day, must've been about 12, I walked in on her ODing - the needle half sticking out her arm..._

Clarke allows herself five extra minutes in bed. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> YAY for FLUFF. ;)
> 
> Hans, Mads. (Eh, I tried.)


End file.
